


Always aim high

by snowynight



Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, First Time, Gangsters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 20:28:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowynight/pseuds/snowynight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Steve's trade of work, trust is beautiful but dangerous</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always aim high

Steve pulled up his coat's collar, but still the strong wind leaked in through the crack, making him shiver. The street was nearly empty, the usual panhandlers absent, probably sensible enough to find a shelter. Steve hated the wind, the cold and the winter, but he had a mission. He marched on, until he found the person he was waiting for by the lamppost. He couldn't help but frown though when he came nearer and took a good look. "Tony, you should put on more clothes. It's cold." What Tony wore was flashy enough, and probably hid more weapons than what Steve could imagine, but didn't look warm enough.  
  
"One day I'll make you explain your strange phobia about coldness," Tony said with a smile. His posture was casual, too casual, leaning toward the lamppost as if he had been boneless, but Steve knew Tony enough to know that it was just a pretense. Tony was like a cheetah, all kind of laziness and charm hiding his deadliness. People who overlooked this didn't even have time to regret.  
  
Steve wasn't one among them, but he was smart enough to let this remain unsaid, so he just nodded and said, "Let's go." He let Tony lead him to Tony's car and got in it. On the way Tony explained more about the job they were about to do with a tinge of boredom. Safeguarding wasn't his favourite job. Steve knew that, but he added in the usual comment about preparing for the worse, knowing that he would be ignored as usual. But it was a part of their usual rapport and Steve didn't want to break the rhythm.  The car stopped near a warehouse and Tony said, "Here we are." Steve nodded and got out of the car with Tony. They had the warehouse checked before, but it didn't hurt to be cautious.  
  
The people they were waiting for had finally come. The woman leader's gold teeth flashed when she ordered her people to take the goods in. They didn't shake hands. It was unnecessary. The money and the goods exchanged hands. Then an explosion occurred and another gang rushed in, with gun shooting. One of them shouted something like " Hand over the stuff" but he was barely heard under the gun fire.  
  
Steve and Tony took cover, and he could feel Tony coming alive. They both took out their guns and started shooting back. Tony took out his gun, big and personalized, improved enough that it had the most accurate aim Steve had ever seen. Tony once sat Steve through his long-winded explanation about the mechanism behind it, but half of that flew over Steve's head. His sharp shooting rarely missed even when he was moving. Steve was used to that, but their enemies hadn't. Steve liked to rely on his old favourite, which Tony liked to friendlily jest about, but it was good enough for him.    
  
Soon the fight was over, the trade went on as if it had never been interrupted. After that, Steve and Tony took the people they deliberately spared and phoned the broker to take over. Soon more heads would roll and Steve knew from Tony's wicked smile that he anticipated it.  
  
"Let's get some coffee. I know the right place," Tony said. They got in the car again and stopped on an old street. The coffee shop might as well be lifted from the picture Nighthawk. Just a typical one, but Tony knew his coffee.  
  
They sat down and placed the order with a tired-looking waitress. The coffee arrived soon and Steve found that it was strong and good. They were silent over the coffee. After that they talked, nothing serious business, just generally enjoying the time together. Then Tony drove Steve home and said, "Time for our movie night."  
  
This time Steve chose the film and it was Mr. and Mrs Smith, the black and white one, as he preferred something as far from their job as possible for entertainment. Tony raised an eyebrow when the film began, but Steve knew that Tony was secretly into it as he relaxed over time, leaning by Steve and grinned at the amusement ride scene. They had their usual popcorn, and when the film was over Steve lingered for several minutes before stopping the player and saying goodbye to Tony. Then he went to bed, with his sleep interrupted by a phone call later. He took the phone call and left his apartment, the tension returning again.  
  
The next morning Steve went on his morning run. The city was ugly, with its decaying buildings and the grey sky. The city was frantic, with a protest, a parade, and an attempted robbery all happening on his run. Steve was born and raised in the city, and he would never have the city be another way. When he returned to his apartment to have a shower, the phone rang and him being half wet, he got out of his bathroom and took the call.  
  
"We get the names of the guys who wanted to rob us. The boss told you to get here," an excited voice transmitted through the phone.  
  
"I will be here in half an hour," Steve answered.  
  
"See you later!"  The phone was hung up then and Steve got ready for work. He drove his motorcycle to the building the headquarter was in , passed the well-built guards and retinal scan, and went to the meeting room. Not surprisingly he was the first person to be here. Then the others came and Tony winked at him when he sat across Steve. The meeting started. Steve took notes of the important items and tried to concentrate. It wasn't easy  as Tony kept distracting him with sarcastic yet amusing text about the meeting to him. Finally the revenge plan was mentioned and confirmed. It'd be up to Steve and Tony to figure out and come through with the plan.  
  
When the meeting ended, Tony patted Steve's shoulder and said with a quirk of his lips. "Get anywhere to go?"  
  
"Same old. Same old," Steve said.  
  
"You're far too young and pretty to settle into a boring routine," Tony said.  
  
"Then what's your suggestion? Remember that we still have a job to do."  
  
"Spoilsport," Tony accused, but he was still smiling. They left the meeting room together, shoulder by shoulder. "Let's go to your office"  
  
"I remember that you actually have one here. Have you forgotten your way? Be careful. It may be the onset of dementia" Steve said.  
  
"I'm wounded. Wounded." Tony put a hand to his chest. "I'm a genius, not a nit-picker."  
  
Steve just smiled. When they entered Steve's tiny but neat office, Tony strode in and got right to Steve's desk, sitting on it and told Steve to come nearer to watch the tablet computer Tony held in his hands. Steve looked over Tony's shoulder and  they stood close enough that Steve could smell the faint cologne Tony wore. He was distracted for a bit, and his mind returned only in time to hear Tony's question.  "What do you think of it?"  
  
"Hm," Steve made a sound to steal time, and then took a look at the screen. "You surely did a lot of work in a night's time." It showed an extensive list of information about people he recognized to belong to a newly rising gang.  
  
"It's me you're talking about. I don't do a half job," Tony said.  
  
In the days coming, Steve and Tony struck the enemy methodologically. Steve had a map with the places they need to go marked and Tony laughed at his old-fashioned style, but he joined pitching pins to the map so Steve figured that Tony was forgiven. It was a period of days of haste moments, when Tony 's hands shook with caffeine and Steve had to basically carry him to the bed, when they leant by each other, too tired to sleep. When the last point was marked out and the leader captured, the boss granted them both a bonus and a week off. Steve was strung out then, barely with enough mind to thank the boss properly.    
  
"Let's celebrate," Tony said.  
  
Steve looked at the dark circles under Tony's eyes. "Take a rest first, Tony."  
  
"Can't sleep. Too many energy."  
  
Steve knew that it was true. He could feel the same mix of exhaustion, tension and balls of energy from both of them. "Why not go sparring together?"  
  
Tony said yes, which led them to a private room in a gym. They changed for sweatshirts and shorts before getting ready in their position. They wrestled, with finally Steve pinning Tony to the gym mat. They looked at each other and Steve could smell Tony, could see the clear shape of his body under his shirt filled with sweat. Steve looked down into Tony's eyes, and found something that Steve couldn't, or didn't dare to decipher, least it led to a path that neither could pay the price for. Steve froze and only after what seemed like forever,  Tony said, "Give."  
  
Steve let him up. They took a shower and Steve returned to his place. He slept, with a dream filled with Tony's blue eyes.  
  
The days went on, and when the movie night came again, it was at Tony's place, which was in elegant black and white, and the sofas were sinfully comfortable, yet the place was strangely impersonal, a place to show for business, not a home.  It was like Tony, in a way. Steve kept his observation to himself, went straight to sit down in front of the huge and slim TV set.  
  
"What's the film for tonight? Better not be Star Wars Trilogy," Steve said.  
  
"You have no soul, Steve. No soul," Tony's eyes were smiling despite his hurtful voice.  
  
Steve had to smile back. He admitted that he loved Star Wars too, though he still couldn't understand Tony's fervour of banning him from talking about the other Star Wars films, but the next day he needed to be early. "So what's this?"  
  
"Sleeper," Tony said.  
  
"The Woody Allen's film?"  
  
"You surprise me. I think you only know pop culture before the war."  
  
"I'm not actually born in the thirties and get frozen until recent time, much as you want to say."  
  
"Really? Are you sure?" Tony teased, and then he sat by Steve and started the movie.  
  
It was unabashedly funny, and Steve had to laugh at the giant vegetables and chicken. The 1984 political humour hit something in his heart, and made him laugh louder. He took a look at Tony, and found that Tony was looking at him with sadness in his eyes. But soon it faded and Tony now looked at him amused. Steve wondered what this meant and worried that if Tony knew more about what he let on. He hoped not, at least not in the way he thought. Otherwise...  
  
When they parted, the worry refused to leave his mind, until he forced himself to sleep.  
  
After then Steve paid more attention to Tony while feigning nonchalance, but he didn't get much from his observation. Tony was still Tony, with not much sense of personal space, teasing , flirting, friendly. However, Steve trusted his instinct, which had caused him to avoid death several times. Maybe the plan had to be adjusted. Steve supposed that he should stay away from Tony, but it might lead to more suspicion. A little voice said that there was another bigger reason, but he ignored it.  
  
Then the big job came.  
  
Steve heard about the plan at the meeting room, and he had to say it was daring, like something in Die Hard. Distracting the cops and FBI with high profiled hostage situation and bomb scare, they would get to what really matter: money at the central bank. The boss smiled a bit talking about her plan, and it sounded brilliant.    
  
Steve showed nothing on the outside, but he felt like a barely contained boiling pot. It was what he waited for after such a long period of time.  
  
When the meeting was over, Steve was so much in his thought that he was slow to respond to Tony's voice. Steve played it cool  and Tony only teased him a bit. "The sound of money clinking may be loud and clear, but better pay attention to now too."  
  
"Sorry," Steve said. "Now where're we going? The usual place?"  
  
"A new place. My treat."  
  
"All right," Steve said and followed Tony to a neighbourhood that they weren't used to frequent. Steve's hand started to sweat. Many things went over in his mind until they stopped in front of an old eatery. Steve was strangely relieved. When they entered the place, Tony said, "It 's one of New York's best kept secrets. Perfect burgers and fries."  
  
When the burgers came, Steve had a bite of it and found that the meat was so juicy that it burst, and the bread was soft. The fries were crisp and fried just right. Steve had to admit it when he devoured the food. They were perfect.  
  
After finishing, Tony asked, "Do you believe in fate?"  
  
"I think you're an atheist."  
  
"Agnostic, more accurately."  
  
"Why ask?"  
  
"I'm a futurist. It's my thing, but sometimes, I wonder."  
  
"This dour mood doesn't suit you. We're on a land of dream and our lives'll be our own."  
  
"God bless America."  
  
The conversation repeated again and again in Steve's mind on his way home. He found that he was obsessed  with Tony's tone, the way Tony looked at him. He went through every details, finding and analyzing all the small details to hell and drove him to near crazy. It could be nothing, or worse, it could be a trap. But maybe, maybe... Steve hung onto a glint of hope that maybe things could be better. Maybe he could do something. when there was still a chance.  
  
He took out his phone, pressed a familiar number he learnt to heart, and when he heard the gruff voice answering the phone, he said, "I have to tell you something."  
  
The next day Steve got on with his job, a bit light-hearted, and checked over the businesses he was responsible for. It was good for the morale. He looked at the reports and made decisions based on them. His mood was only dampened a bit when he worked on the preparation for the big job. But overall, things went smooth and he was in his best mood in quite a few days. When everything was done and he was leaving the office, he got a phone call. It was from Tony.  
  
"Working again?" Tony asked from the other side of the phone. "So boring."  
Steve replied, "Unlike someone, I actually have to work." Tony liked to play up the brilliant but lazy image but only those unfamiliar with him were fooled. Steve indulged him though as it was part of Tony's mask. Steve did sometimes wonder how deep the mask go though. It was the norm for people in their trade to trust no one, but Tony hid everything better. Perhaps one day...  
  
"All work and no play makes Steve a boring boy. Come play with me."  
  
"What's your suggestion?" Steve said, already packing up his thing and left his office.  
  
"I know that you'll see reasons." Then Tony told him an address and ended the call with a blow kiss.  
  
Steve went there by the subway following the intrusions, and found that Tony was already there, smiling and pulled him inside.  Steve was surprised to find a jazz pub that seemed to come out of the 1920s. People danced around them and the wave of touch made Steve feel that he was melding with the crowd. The music from another era was hypnotizing. "It's awesome," Steve said to Tony.  
  
"Enjoy yourself," Tony smiled and pulled him to the centre of the floor.    
  
Steve danced with one after another, and the sea of touch flowed by him, relieving him from tiredness and loneliness all in a day. He let his body moved with the rhythm of music and was intoxicated with these moments that he was nearest to being his true self. It was as if he was flying. The energy of lightning blitzed through his body. His heart was so high in the air that when he turned back and saw that Tony was just there, smiling. Steve smiled back, went straight to Tony and hugged him. "It was great! Thank you!" Then maybe because of something in the air, he pressed his lips on Tony.  
  
Very quickly Steve realized his mistake. Tony didn’t kiss back and kind of froze here. Steve quickly withdrew himself and saw the shock in his eyes. His heart sunk and said, “I’m sorry, Tony.” Tony didn’t say anything and Steve understood that. Tony was a great friend and he ruined everything. He stood away from Tony, waiting for his judgment.  
  
Then Tony pulled him back and kissed him on his lips. Steve was slow to respond at first, but he soon kissed back, feeling Tony’s dry lips and let him in under Tony’s gentle persuasion.  The kiss was gentle like a glass of champagne, yet the strength was strong. When the kiss finally came to an end, Tony said while breathing strongly, “let’s go to my place.”  
  
“All right.”  
  
They went inside Tony’s car, and when they arrived at the apartment, hardly when Tony closed the door that they started to kiss again. Tony pressed Steve to the door gently and Steve melted into his touch, his kiss. He let Tony’s skillful tongue in to map him, and he almost wished Tony hadn’t been so gentle, because the passion came and go while gentleness scorched marks on the soul.  
  
Steve wasn’t sure when they moved to Tony’s bed. There Tony helped him off his clothes and stopped when Steve was naked. Steve felt shy under Tony’s glance of admiration and softness. Thn Tony pressed a kiss on Steve’s shoulder and proceeded, the fabric of his clothes rubbing on Steve’s skin. Steve wanted to help Tony away from them but Tony just smiled and put his off.  
  
After that there were a lot of slow kisses and lingering touch. Steve laughed when Tony kissed a sensitive spot, and Tony kissed away his laughter. Steve ‘s own hand was on Tony’s body, trying to remember all for a time that he‘d have to live on his memory. Tony’s hands were so nice, coaxing Steve’s body to be completely open to him.  Then he put his mouth to Steve’s cock and Steve wanted to do something and told him, so Tony adjusted his position and now Steve’s mouth was sucking Tony’s cock, and he came to match Tony’s rhythm. Finally they came at roughly the same time.  
  
When Steve woke up in the early morning, he found that he was alone and couldn’t quite get why he felt suddenly lonely. He wasn’t sure about the etiquette with having sex with one’s good friend either. Then Tony came in, smiling and Steve was more relieved, but he still didn’t know what to say.  Tony must have felt it too, as he returned to the bed and held Steve in his arms, saying, “Let’s sleep.”  
  
Steve did.  
  
Steve thought that he should have agonized about it the days after. After all it wasn’t a good idea to roll into bed with your good friend, not to mention what he knew would have happened. But he couldn’t bring himself to. Soon he could only live on his memory, and this was one to be treasured. Besides, he was too busy to follow the orders of the boss to have much time to himself. He noticed that Tony was similarly tired, and one night they just tumbled into Steve’s bed to sleep, Steve holding Tony and breathing in grease and the faint cologne Tony wore. it was the best night he had slept.  
  
When the big day came, after a final briefing of the big job, Steve couldn't quite say what he felt when a lot of cops rushed in the meeting room. He turned to Tony and found surprise, grief, and a bit desperation in his eyes. It wasn’t good, not because of Steve’s position, but because he didn’t want Tony to get hurt. He got closer to him. Then things got a bit frenetic as some people fought back. In the trouble ensued, he signalld Tony to leave, only for him to shook his head and smiled sadly, starting to say, “I’m...”  
  
Steve never caught what he was speaking, because he saw a flash of blade at Tony, and instinctively went between him and the blade. But he was too slow, and the knife struck into him. There was the burning pain and when he fell into darkness, the last thing he saw was Tony ‘s frantic eyes.  
  
When he opened his eyes again, he felt weak, his throat dry and he was in pain. Then he turned his head and was surprised that Tony was here sitting by him, free. He made a sound and Tony opened his eyes and smiled at him.  
  
“Why?” Steve asked, not sure what questions he was exactly asking. .  
  
Tony replied, “I always want to tell you something.” He pulled out something from inside his coat and Steve’s eyes were open. It was...  
  
“Agent Tony Stark here. Nice to meet you, Detective Steve Rogers.”  
  
Steve couldn’t believe what he heard. He was a bit shocked. Then he wanted to laugh. All these time... He noticed that Tony was watching him with uncertainty and stretched out a hand to him.  Tony quickly held it back.  
  
“We’re really a match in every way,” Steve said.  
  
Tony smiled.


End file.
